The Rooftop: What If?
by herMUSiCnotesXo
Summary: Just a oneshot. What if Christine went to the rooftop alone? What if Erik was there with her instead of Raoul? What if Christine chose Erik instead? Please Review!


THE ROOFTOP: WHAT IF…?

Christine ran. She didn't know where she was going, she didn't care. She just wanted to get away from everyone. Her angel…No! Christine strained herself to stop thinking of him like that. That man was no where near anything like an angel. But all of the sadness within him…If only Christine had the courage within herself, she would discipline the Phantom for all of the hurt he had caused. But, alas, she could not. She was weak. All he'd given her meant too much to turn against. But there's a line that a shouldn't of been crossed. He'd gone too far this time. Joseph Bouquet's death was for her sake. And it was understandable for why he was the target. Telling fool's tales to the ballerina rats and how he'd play at love with them. He was a good example of the kind of men young women should not get fraternized with as Madame Giry would say to the childish dancers. Keeping the girls scared in their beds at night, so afraid as to not wander the theatre beyond hours, was his only real good usage. He was certainly a nuisance to the Opera Populaire, getting drunk on the job and all…But no matter who the person may be, no one deserves death before their time has come.

Her voice, her rising as a star…It was all thanks to the Phantom. He just loved her too much. And Christine could do nothing else than to love him back. A father he was, her guardian that appeared an angel, and now he was becoming more than a dark friend, her mysterious teacher. The Phantom was becoming her flame.

Raoul was nothing compared to her angel- The Phantom. Raoul had become evanescent in the back of her mind at the moment. He was nothing more than the young boy who went to fetch her scarf from the rolling waves off the shores of Sweden, a childhood sweetheart, a good friend. Christine hadn't realized how infantile she had acted. She loved Raoul but not that way. She was curious, immature and lonesome. Maybe if she had Raoul, she would get rid of her feelings for the Phantom.

And then Christine realized that's not what she wanted. She wanted her Angel of Music with a passion Raoul would never understand. But what the Phantom had committed this very night had no excuse. Christine could never be with a murderer. She was angry and confused now.

As she reached the rooftop, she paid no thought to the freezing temperature or the cold flakes that landed upon her ever so gracefully. The singer held her emotions within herself until they could not be held any longer. Sobs and tears were current as the glistening droplets fled down her fair cheeks in the moonlight. Finally, she stumbled upon the stone beneath her and froze in fear of what had just occurred back in the theatre. On her numb hands and knees she studied the ground.

The small yet millions of details in the fallen snow and how her tears etched it, creating the tiniest craters. She needed someone now, just to hold. Just any sort of comfort. This is how she made her mistake with Raoul. Christine looked to the clouded sky and hummed the tune of "Angel of Music".

Erik stood behind the statue, listening to the feminine weeping from behind. The Phantom knew at this point, she must have hated him far worse than anyone now. He stepped out from behind the large object, spotting the fragile, pale form of seventeen year old Christine, toppled onto the frozen ground seeming almost solidified by the cold. The garish, magenta cloak she wore wasn't keeping her warm any. After all, it wasn't created for such harsh weather. It was only made for 'Il Muto'. The corset Christine also wore couldn't be helping her breathing as she cried like this. Erik felt so ashamed of himself.

He made a move to come close to her, his sad amber eyes watching her. She didn't deserve to see the dead remains of Bouquet. She was awfully young. And yet again he had taken his actions too far over the limits. It was only to keep the foolish managers, Firmin and Andre, obeying his will and none others.

To simply frighten them was his intentions, to prove he was in charge. But now, enough had been proven. Tonight, enough had been frightened. And the masked Phantom cursed himself, for what he was seeing was tearing at his heart. Christine could never love him now.

He gave up his hope, turning on his heel and creating a crunch sound upon the newly fallen snow. Christine didn't stir at the sound. She knew he was there. He was always there with her, even when she didn't know it. Christine slowly turned her head, sending some of her brunette curls toppling over her shoulder, and with her glossy brown eyes she shot him a woeful look to his back.

While he was turned, all Christine could distinguish through the heavy snowfall was a tall, dark figure frozen in his stature. Her beautiful voice broke into song, as a small tear ran down her right cheek.

"Where is my angel? My Angel of Music?"

Before Christine could think before she sang, it was out of her mouth already. She knew it was the truth, though, and didn't regret saying anything.

"Where is the man I love?"

Those words she spoke, they stopped Erik from taking another step or even a breath of chilling air. He thanked the Lord she didn't hate him after all. The Phantom did not speak a word. He slowly turned his tall, shadowy self to face the beautiful Christine Daae. It was a blessing to hear those words escape her lips. A true blessing.

In unison they both sang softly, their voices floating in the night air sounding so beautiful that the angels above could've wept.

"Whose is the voice / I am the voice

That lulls me to dream/ That lulls you to dream

The voice that sings music / The voice that sings music

Oh, who could this be/ Oh, simply, it's me"

Even in the white shower, Erik's mask glowed with a pure, angelic sense that made it look unreal…As a ghost. It made him mysterious, rapturous and unearthly all at the same time. His piercing, amber eyes seemed to see right into her soul. This frightened Christine yet it tempted her, too. She couldn't feel her hands, her knees, her feet…Nothing. She still couldn't find it in herself to move.

He slowly walked over to Christine's frozen figure. His black, gloved hand willingly reached its way down to her level. Christine's sorrowful eyes looked to his offering hand. She couldn't take it any longer. The Phantom watched her eyes shift from the frozen ground to his hand. And what the young lady did next startled him completely.

Christine leaped into her angel's arms. Feeling his arms and his thick cloak wrapping around her cold, shivering body made her feel safe from everything. It was the strangest thing. She was seeking comfort from the one thing that made her afraid. But Christine knew she loved him. Everything about him…

And they continued,

"Is it my angel/ I am your angel

My one promised angel/ Your dark, lonely angel

Show me your great beauty/ Deliver me your beauty"

Christine cupped the bare side of Erik's face with her white, frozen hand. It was the coldest The Phantom had felt, but he didn't flinch a bit. He was in deep thought, almost panic. What was she planning to do now?

"Unravel your hidings / I keep to my hidings;

And show me your face / The mask on my face"

As Christine clutched the side of her angel's glowing mask, Erik finally knew what was running through her head. He wanted to panic, to pull away, but she was going to see one way or the other. The more he refused, the stricter Christine would become about it. He took a deep breath and decided that now was the right time. Erik fought in his head whether or not he should let her, debating within himself.

Christine could've sworn beads of sweat were forming on the Phantom's upper brow. She understood why, but it looked awkward in the weather they were standing in. She wanted to know what he looked like, what he was truly hiding beneath that porcelain mask. Both practically whispered as they stared into each others eyes,

"The face of a true angel… / The face scorned by true angels…"

Christine began to pull lightly on it, when just then; Erik put his gloved hand to his mask, plastering it back to his face before it got too loose. He gently removed Christine's small hand from his face and shamefully turned his head away. Erik said in a low voice, "Christine, I'm sorry, forgive me…" She turned his face back to hers with the tips of her cold fingers. "For everything." His voice trembled as he spoke.

"No, there is nothing to forgive." She noticed the blood red rose was still in her other hand's grasp. Christine still had it since Madame Giry gave it to her while she was being changed into Carlotta's dress for 'Il Muto'. She smiled whole-heartedly at its beauty and its symbol of her angel's undying love.

"Say you'll share with me

One love, one lifetime.

Lead me, save me

From my solitude.

Say you need me with you

Now and always.

Anywhere you go

Let me go, too.

That's all I ask of you…"

The Phantom watched her intently as she leaned her head against his. He took his hand and tried to touch Christine's soft lips with his fingertips, but then realized that his gloves were keeping him from that sensation. Christine took his hand and removed his glove. He brushed his bare knuckles over her cheekbone; filling her with butterflies and making her want him even more. Their lips were centimeters apart, both feeling the other's hot breath upon them.

"Christine, Christine…"

Erik sang softly, slowly making the move to lock his lips upon hers. They were as close as they could get.

"Christine!"

A loud, bellowing male's voice rang through air with heroic song. Christine's head shot towards the familiar man near the door. He stood dumbfounded, seemingly stuck in his position. "Raoul!" The young girl cried aloud with as much emphasis as she could manage. Christine was beginning to feel sick and her head was spinning. Everything was so numb.

As she called to the boy, the Phantom somehow let himself escape Christine's arms. He ran for the monument at the far corner of the rooftop. Christine's gasps didn't stop him as he jumped off through the icy weather. "That man is mad!" Raoul hastily raced forward in shock. He then turned his attention to the chilling, cold figure behind him.

"Christine! Who was that man? Did he hurt you? Christine!" Raoul asked impatiently, shaking Christine by the arms. He gave up and removed his coat, placing it around her shoulders. Christine was in her own world at that moment. Forgetting everything around her, a weak smile spread across her face. What could've just happened before Raoul came?

She gazed at the point of the roof where her angel just disappeared. Christine twirled the red rose thoughtfully in her non-feeling fingers. Raoul watched her, confused at everything. His blue eyes studied Christine's brown ones as they seemed unearthly before him. "Has the world gone insane?"

Raoul laughed unbelievably as the young girl smiled, not paying any attention. Suddenly, she answered. "Possibly…" Still in her trance, she laughed lightly. "Who was that…man?" Raoul asked quietly, clearly upset, but not to Christine.

Christine looked up into his icy eyes. "Mmmm…" She held in her urge to laugh aloud in happiness. "He's the man I love, Raoul." Lifting the rose to her nose, she inhaled the sweet fragrance. The sick feeling was still lingering within her and she continued to ignore it.

Until the cold got through to her bone, everything went limp and she fell feeling dizzy, freezing like an icicle. Raoul caught her just in time, holding her close, keeping his coat tight around her. Christine was hardly awake. "Christine!" She was so weak, losing consciousness every minute that passed. "Raoul…"

Christine slurred her words and drifted into sleep. "Shhh, Little Lotte. Try and stay awake." Raoul whispered sadly in Christine's ear. He headed back into the Opera Populaire with poor Christine in his arms. "Angel…?"

Christine lay awake in her bed covers, more awake than she had been at least. Her feeling was beginning to return to her body, slowly though. Raoul walked inside with extra blankets in his arms and stood a few feet from where the soprano lay warmly. "I've told the managers you were unable to perform. They seemed paranoid. I could understand when they would have to refund a full house...Again!" Christine ignored him and looked to the mirror across the room and faintly made out the shape of a white mask within it. She smiled and drifted into sleep as Raoul fixed her covers to make her as comfortable as possible once again for eleventh time.

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Well, that's it! I hope it was enjoyable for everyone, because I so much enjoyed writing it! I was inspired by a story I read on here, it's in my favorites, and I just had to try my own. Some things may seem the same but I tried to make it as different as possible. Do you know how hard it is to not copy the smallest things from a great story? Anyway POTO and the characters do not belong to me. If it did, why would I be writing this? D I made up my own lyrics except for 'All I Ask of You'. Toodles, Oodles and Cheese-Doodles!

MusicDeLovely


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